She's He
by Haikoui
Summary: Mal finds Ariadne one night in Cobb's dream. A conversation ensues. D/A.


**Title: **She's He

**Author:** Haikoui

**Disclaimer: **Inception and its characters and its plot and its awesome moviemakingness and its epicness and its ability to win over anyone belongs to Christopher Nolan. Yeah. Him, not me.

**Summary:** Mal finds Ariadne one night in Cobb's dream. A conversation ensues.

* * *

I know I'm not supposed to be peeking around.

I know I'm supposed to be working on designs for the dream levels for our next job, an inception on Robert Fischer Jr., and I know I'm not supposed to be peeking around.

I can't help it, though, because it's so _beautiful._ The world I'm in is... breathtaking. My mind has never been as gorgeous as this one (at least, in my own terms). Everything here is so vivid and enthralling, and at the same time, so incessantly mysterious that it is like a drug and I can't let it go. If only, if _only_, it weren't _his_ – I feel partly like a sneak, a criminal, as I move throughout the creases of his mind.

I haven't found him yet. It's not like I'm looking. If he finds me, all hell will probably break loose, and I certainly don't want that.

His world is full of shores and buildings, beaches and cities, oceans and countries. The perfect balance between man and nature, that's what it is. I can only marvel at his ability to dream such beauty.

His world is full of imagination and logic at the same time. Stairs swirling into the sky, bridges connecting the farthest buildings – at the same time, the sense of the common world eases in around me, as if I'd lived here my entire life.

His world is a vast expanse of ocean. There is no land beyond the everlasting sea. There is no escape from the beach. There is no haven from the violent waters of the ocean beyond the shores of the cities. I know because that's the way _he works, _the way his mind functions, the way he operates. There is no way to escape from his guilt. There is no way to escape the regrets that fill his mind. There is no way to escape _her._

I sit on a step of a staircase that ascends into the sky. The projections regard me mildly, but not too oddly. I haven't been creating in this world. I merely come to explore and enjoy. I merely come to revel in what is _Dominic Cobb, _the man who had taken me from what I had thought was the only world possible – reality. The man who had shown me the other world, the other dimension, the land of dreams. The man who had _taught _me.

"What are you doing here?"

I start because, for a second, I think he's found me, but the sultry tone reminds me that it is a woman. It is _her,_ and I stiffen.

Her breath is on my neck, and she repeats, "What are you doing here?"

I swallow heavily and try not to seem nervous. _She's a projection. A projection._

"Do you know where you are, little girl?" she snarls in my ear. I give no response. _It will only feed her anger._

I hear her lean away from me. Suddenly, she moves into my line of vision and sits beside me, a knife in her hand, her eyes burning. "What are you doing here?" she parrots once more, raising an eyebrow.

My voice has run away from my throat. I am speechless. For a second, I imagine telling her that I was here to explore her husband's mind, her lover's indefinite mysteries, and in my own mind, she erupts in a fury, questioning my motives.

But she sits quietly, demanding an answer by her silent position. Her eyes are blue fire, peering into me. Just like him.

Finally, unsatisfied with my silence, she leans over and breathes maliciously, "I know who you are." Her hands trace the edge of the knife almost lovingly and I look away.

"Why won't you kill me?" I inquire, and for a second I am in shock at my own brash behavior. My eyes find hers again and the corners of her lips twist upward.

"Do you want me to?" she retorts.

I say nothing for a moment, before looking away to the shore, at the sky now painted with reds and yellows and oranges. Finally, I clench my hands and respond, "You've killed me before."

She gives a harsh laugh. "Because you are making him move on. That is why I killed you."

_What?_ "I don't understand – "

Her steely eyes turn to me once more. "You are forgetting something," she sneers, turning the knife in her hands. "You are forgetting that this is a dream."

"I _know_ this is a dream," I reply desperately, shaking my head. "Cobb does too. But when we wake up from here, we will be in reality – "

She purses her lips at me and turns her eyes to the vast ocean. "That isn't what I meant, little girl."

I don't understand her. I don't understand her complexities, the way she exudes Cobb's regret and guilt. _The way she exudes Cobb's regret and guilt. _And suddenly, I _know._

My calm facade nearly crumbles, because I know now that I am essentially talking to _him._ She is _him,_ but only the parts he does not know. The parts he doesn't realize about himself.

I find her watching me now with a wistful sensation, as though she already knows what I have realized. She flips the knife carefully, but she doesn't watch it one bit. Instead, her ice blue eyes are on me, and she hisses quietly, "Why won't I kill you?"

I know the answer. I don't want to say it. It scares me.

She leans over, her breath on my cheek now. "Why won't I kill you?"

"Because _he_ d-doesn't want to," I reply, beginning to quiver.

Her mouth slowly morphs into a grin and she moves back. "A friendly suggestion, little girl." She pauses, her eyes shifting between me and the shore. "Leave."

The knife is suddenly at my neck, its metal cool and tingling against my skin, and I stiffen. _This is his subconscious unwilling to move on,_ I tell myself. _This is his subconscious unwilling to accept the fact that he will move on without her._

"Leave, little girl," she breathes.

"No," I respond, my voice shaking.

"Ariadne?"

She whips around like a bullet, and a split second later, I imitate her. He's a few yards away from the staircase, on the solid ground, looking up at us in confusion. "Mal?" he adds, and his brows furrow as he attempts to understand what is going on.

"Sorry," I say, standing up quickly. I can feel Mal's eyes trail me as I hurry down the staircase. Seconds later, when I reach the bottom, he is blocking my way, and I try to shove him out of the way.

He stops me harshly and pulls me over. "What are you doing here?" he inquires, but the question is laced with betrayal and distress, rather than contempt and distaste from Mal.

"I wanted to know." I answer him with a quivering voice and he softens slightly. Mal growls in anger behind me, on the steps of the ongoing staircase. His eyes flash to her for a second before turning to me again.

"Mal." He addresses his wife softly, still watching me, his expression moving from bewilderment to disappointment. _He's torn._ _He doesn't want to move on... but he does at the same time._

Mal snaps angrily, standing up and moving toward the two of us like a storm, shoving me out of the way and lifting the knife threateningly. He shakes his head and places his hands on her shoulders, whispering, but she retorts and waves the knife like a flag.

Suddenly, she turns to me with her eyes glowing. "You are not welcome," she whispers. She lifts the knife, and I am suddenly struck dumb by what she's about to do, but in a split second Cobb moves in front of me like a shield and takes a blow to his arm.

His pained scream is echoed by Mal's, which is underlined with pleasure and want, and mine, which erupts from my throat in terror.

But we wake.

He is silent, packing the leads away as I stare off into the middle distance of the warehouse. He asks no questions as he helps me off the chair. He gives no indication of how he feels whatsoever.

"Cobb?" I'm brave enough to speak. His eyes turn to me in acknowledgment before returning to storing the case away. I wait for him to answer me. Sure enough, he does.

"Yes?"

I look at my hands. I don't want to feel like I'm intruding, but I know I've intruded too much already. "Are... are you moving on?" He doesn't respond. We walk to the front of the warehouse and he opens the door quietly.

Before I can get through, he says, "I'm trying."

It's better than a no. I nod silently, but he adds, "I wasn't, before..."

His sentence is lost. Before what? He swallows and looks at me, his eyes clouded. I can't tell with what. "Goodnight, Ariadne. Wake up early tomorrow."

"What happens if I don't?" I question. I'm not teasing him.

"I might lose myself," he replies in a whisper, his mouth twisting in a sad smile. "Sweet dreams."

I head out the door. Sweet dreams. _As if.

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**I hope you enjoyed it. I can't get enough of these two. **

**Love you all! :) **

**(Reviews are awesome. Just a thought.)**


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